The boys came trundling out of their new house in the morning to start a long day marching up and down along the fence separating them from the girls, like they were picketing Jericho. The girls are inside the orange fence, the roosters are inside the white fence.
All day, back and forth. In one day they tamped down a groove in the dirt along that fence.They took breaks for shade, and food, but barely.
On the girls’ side, it was all How’s the serenity? Some hens are whiny and indignant because they’re always whiny and easily offended, but on the whole the mood was completely new over there, relaxed and curious. They were lounging, and scratching, catching up on a heavy schedule of digging holes and meditation, contemplating the sticks right in front of them. They went to bed earlier and laid more eggs. It was much quieter.
It was high time to get the roos out of there. It sneaks up. They’re just cute little chicks, until one day, they’re hair-pulling jerks. The hens were prancing around and sunbathing right in front of the guys. Ok, now you’re just taunting them.
There’s Nosey, pecking at my pants. She’s growing!
It was a nice sunny day, so I figured it would be a big bath day, with the pool overflowing with Pigpen chickens, but I went out with my camera and only three Silkies were in that mood.This guy found he had the pool all to himself, and seemed kind of pleased about it, but was only thinking about having a bath:
I was sneaky; I was posting chicken pictures while I was away. But I’m back home and everyone is fine, including the 10 little unseasonal chicks. They’re bigger than they were.
Also, I’ve started producing new content at my new location: https://steempeak.com/@selka. You might recognize some of the initial stories:)
So far the platform is so easy to use that it’s like finally getting a drink when you’re thirsty. I’m so ready to say goodbye to WordPress. When I make the switch, the web link happyharvest.ca will just point over there, instead of here, so that little will be affected. I’ll have to confirm that email subscribers aren’t affected either.
For a bit I’ll post on both, until it’s time to switch. I’ll be keeping you posted (harhar).
I will keep this site alive always, so that all of the stuff stays here, but I’m going to stop paying for it, so ads will come back on, etc.
This little rooster is cerebrally challenged. In other words, he’s kinda dumb.
The last surviving rooster of the refugees from the horrible, terrible chicken place (all the hens recovered and relearned how to chicken, although they are all super small), he gets to stay in with the hens because of his beautiful colouring and mild, meek attitude. His brains, on the other hand, leave something to be desired.
The Colonel is at large in the GH, still the ruler of the roost, and boy is he kept busy teaching the young roos some manners. One flying drop kick at a time.
Ursa’s got four little chicks (living). Two were already dead. The future is not bright for chicks hatched at the beginning of winter. But I’ll do my best to help her.
One piece of cardboard and she’s got a student apartment now. That’ll be enough space for a few days, as they’ll spend most of their time under her.
I moved her back from the kitchen so the chicks would tumble out so I could get some pictures.
Turns out the chicks were super into some more food.
The other four crazy broody hens (down from six crazies – turns out it IS contagious) are busy playing egg burgle bingo, trying to steal eggs from each other. We’ll see if any of them also successfully hatch.
I got some more work done in the greenhouse. Specifically, I untied all the strings crossing the top third, that suspend tomatoes in the summer.
You can just see the strings in this pic. So I’m taking them down and crochet looping them up to decommission them until next year. The guineas will be able to fly around in the upper third of the GH again.
This festooning makes sense to me.
Then the irrigation came out, and the pool went in, and coops were shifted – oh my! When HW was yanking out the irrigation tape, he exposed a nestful of a family of shrews or voles that ran scurrying, and the chickens leapt into the air and screamed like little girls! Which made the whole room erupt, and they talked about it for quite a while.
The Silkies noticed immediately that their dust bath was refilled:) by immediately I mean seconds. About ten.
Cleopatra wants in there SO bad. So bad that I was able to catch her, the notorious escape artist, and take her jacket off- she’s all regrown.
Everyone wants into that dust bath. So much so that there was an invasion from outside:
A half dozen chickens that don’t belong hopped into Silkieland to use their fridge-drawer baths (how rude), all the while ignoring that they have a new grand bath of their own:
There was so much upheaval – wood chips and hay and coop movement and the addition of baths and overturning of turf, that the roosters were bleating about “New things! New things!” for about 20 minutes straight. Other than that it was very, very quiet. All must be investigated.
This little adventure chicken got in on the action when I went to hang some long poles for perches at the opposite end of the GH from where the guineas now roost. First, I rested it on the coop.
Whitey got aboard. More impressively, stayed on and rode the pole as I tied up the opposite end at 6’ish, then came to the coop, raised that end and tied that up.
What are you gonna do now, little bird?
That should keep them entertained for a couple days.
The woodpecker was so absorbed in the new dish at the buffet that he let me get quite close to him/her. Then, GAH! Didn’t see you there.The suet looks like I’m about to camp-toast some bread.
The new floor chips caused consternation this morning. I dropped the Silkie ramp and all the hens came pouring out as always, then erkk! Put the brakes on partway down the ramp, staring down at the chips I’d liberally sprinkled around before opening them. Traffic stoppage on the Silkieland downramp. Some of them were just fine with it, but some of them looked like I’d just filled their world with water, and they stuck out their necks, unwilling to jump down. Funny. And some of them stayed on the familiar hay, mincing around avoiding the shavings, again like it was water and they didn’t want to get wet.